The King's Evil

'What could be more practical than the drawings of his that I showed you? A reputable builder could turn any of them into a reality.'

'Some builders still prefer to design their own work.'

'Those days are fast disappearing,' said Henry expansively. 'An architect is indispensable if you wish for the highest standards. Master-builders had their value but they are in decline. Well, Sir Ambrose,' he continued, risking a familiar pat on the man's shoulder, 'can you imagine Christopher Wren working as a mason on St Paul's Cathedral or Hugh May mixing lime mortar for one of those exquisite houses he designs? It is unthinkable. Such men belong to a new and honourable elite - the profession of architect. I am proud to number my brother in their ranks.'

Cups of coffee arrived and Northcott pondered while he tasted his. A large amount of money would be expended on his London abode and a degree of emotional capital would be invested in it as well. It was vital to select the right person to design it.

'What of his character?' he asked.

'His character?'

'Yes, Henry. You have told me much about his history and his ambition. But what manner of man is Christopher Redmayne?'

'Dedicated to his work.'

'That might make him narrow-minded and possessive.'

'Far from it!'

'Is he amenable?'

'Completely, Sir Ambrose.'

'He can take orders? Accept criticism?'

'Christopher is yours to command.'

'What of his discretion?' said the other, lowering his voice. 'I do not want some wagging tongue to voice my business abroad. I require a man who does what he is paid for without asking any unnecessary questions. I need a politic man, willing but prudent. Conscientious and close. Not to put too fine a point on it, I am looking for total obedience.'

'You have just described my brother to perfection!'

'We shall see,' said Northcott with a contemplative nod. 'We shall see. If this paragon really does exist, then I will seriously consider him.'

'Thank you, Sir Ambrose.'

'Arrange a meeting.'

'You will not regret this, I do assure you.'

'Let me see the fellow for myself.'

'How soon?'

'At the earliest possible opportunity.'

Henry's smile broadened and he made an eloquent gesture.

'What a pleasing coincidence!' he said without a trace of irony. 'As luck would have it, I believe that Christopher may be in the next room. You can have the pleasure of meeting him immediately.'

When the servant rose shortly after dawn, he came downstairs with a taper to find his master slumped across the table, the candle beside him burned to extinction. Jacob let out a wheeze of disapproval. He put a hand on Christopher's shoulder to shake him gently awake.

'Go to bed, sir,' he whispered. 'Let me help you upstairs.'

'What's that?' said the other drowsily.

'You need some proper rest, sir.'

'Where am I?'

'You fell asleep over your work. Go to bed.'

'No, no.' Christopher rubbed his eyes and shook himself awake. 'I have too much to do, Jacob. Far too much.'

'You have been saying that for weeks, sir. This is the third time in a row that you have stayed up all night to struggle with your drawings.'

'There is no struggle involved. It is a labour of love.' 'Show more love to yourself and less to your work,' advised the old man. 'Flesh and blood can only withstand so much, sir. You need sleep.'

'What I need is food and drink. A hearty breakfast will revive me in no time at all. Then I will be able to finish this last drawing.'

'Let it wait, sir.'

'There can be no delay, Jacob. Sir Ambrose expects the completed set today and he will get them. Everything is riding on this commission. It could be the start of a whole new career for me. That would mean money, Jacob. You would get your wages on time for a change. There is a lot at stake here. And whatever happens, I must not let my brother down. Henry went to great lengths to secure this opportunity for me. I must take full advantage of it.'

'Even if it means slaving away night and day?'

'Architecture is a cruel master.'

Jacob nodded. 'I will prepare your breakfast, sir.'

'One moment,' said Christopher, raising a palm to detain him. 'Open those shutters to let in some light then come and see what I was doing while you were slumbering upstairs. I have not been idle.'

'That is my complaint,' muttered the other.

He opened the shutters, lit a fresh candle with his taper then carried it back to the table. Christopher proudly spread out his drawings.

'Here we are,' he said, beaming at his work. 'What do you think?'

'My opinion is worthless, sir.'

'Not to me, Jacob.'

'I know nothing about designing a house.'

'Just tell me if you would like to live in this one.'

He stood back so that his servant could have a clear view. The old man ran a watery eye over each drawing, moving from one to the other with increasing admiration. He scratched his head in awe. The one over which he lingered most was a drawing of the front elevation of the house. It was a handsome abode with a regular facade, neat rectilinear outlines and square-headed doors and windows. Six stone steps, into which an iron handrail had been set, led up to a portico which comprised elegant pillars with a flat entablature and low pediment. The house bore little resemblance to the Tudor dwellings which proliferated in the city of Jacob's youth and was entirely free from the Gothic extravagances which adorned so many public buildings before the Great Fire.

Jacob was especially impressed with the sash windows, a Dutch invention now taken up with enthusiasm in England. There were eighteen in all, including two which served the attic rooms. The old man wondered how many more windows the house contained and which unfortunate servant would be given the task of keeping them all clean.

'It is pretty, sir,' he said respectfully. 'Very, very pretty.'

'Thank you, Jacob.'

'Anyone would be privileged to live in such a place,'

'I hope that Sir Ambrose Northcott shares your high opinion.'

'If he does not, he must be blind. One question, if I may, sir,' he said, pointing to the first of the drawings. 'Why are the cellars so large?'

'That was the express wish of my client.'

'What does he wish to keep down there?'

'Whatever he wishes, Jacob. Mine is not to question the use to which he puts the cellars. All I know is that Sir Ambrose was most particular about their extent and design. This elaborate vaulting will test the skill of the bricklayers but it is vital in order to support the weight of the house itself. I regard the cellars as a minor triumph. The pity of it is that very few people will ever get to admire the work I put into them.'

'I admire it, sir.'

'That is praise enough for me.'

'The whole house is fit for a king.'

'Sir Ambrose would be flattered by such a thought.'

'The only thing is ...' He broke off as he peered at the front elevation again. 'I mean no disrespect, sir.'

'Go on.'

'The only thing is, sir, it looks a bit, well... foreign.'

'That is the French influence.'

'Ah.'

'Specifically ordered.' He grinned. 'Like my breakfast.'

'I will get it for you at once, sir,' said Jacob, heading for the kitchen. 'No man can work on an empty stomach. Though I still think that you should take a nap to get your strength back.'

Christopher did not hear him. He was already immersed in his work again, studying each of the drawings with a searching eye to make sure that every detail was correct and that it contributed properly to the overall symmetry of the house. He did not need his brother to tell him how important the commission was. Apart from putting much-needed revenue into his purse, it was a chance for Christopher Redmayne to establish himself as an architect. In a highly visible profession, success was its own best advertisement. If the house for Sir Ambrose Northcott caught the eye and won general esteem, other commissions would assuredly follow and Christopher would be able to play his part in the exciting work of rebuilding a great city.